


Therapy

by QuietlyImplode



Series: Rescue Me [13]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Discussions of coping mechanisms, Hurt Natasha Romanov, Natasha Romanov Feels, Therapy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-09
Updated: 2020-11-08
Packaged: 2021-03-09 01:20:43
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,094
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27462604
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QuietlyImplode/pseuds/QuietlyImplode
Summary: Natasha’s first therapy session after being found.____Therapy not a foreign concept, having received it before in the early stages of her journey into Shield but the unknowns of voluntarily going, is making her wary. It’s weaknesses that she can’t abide by.If her handlers saw her now, she’s be six feet under or in prisoned for re-education; mind wiped, start again. Sometimes it’s a consideration and feels almost preferable to working through what she has to.
Relationships: Clint Barton/Natasha Romanov, Natasha Romanov & Avengers Team, Natasha Romanov & Tony Stark
Series: Rescue Me [13]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1984783
Comments: 6
Kudos: 42





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is a two chaptered one shot (Is that a thing?) I couldn't decide on whether to do them as two parts or two chapters so settled on this. The first part is Natasha's POV and the second is Tony's and Clint's POV.

Clint convinces her to go. After finding her passed out in a bolt hole in Alphabet city, bleeding all over her sheets and having visions of her team mates telling her, her worst fears, her worst imaginations, he’s not wrong in saying that something has to give. Cognitively, she knows this.

Therapy not a foreign concept, having received it before in the early stages of her journey into Shield but the unknowns of voluntarily going, is making her wary. It’s weaknesses that she can’t abide by.

If her handlers saw her now, she’s be six feet under or in prisoned for re-education; mind wiped, start again. Sometimes it’s a consideration and feels almost preferable to working through what she has to.

The whole day she’s on edge. Avoiding Clint. Screw him. This is his fault.

She can work through her own damn triggers.

Clint’s found his old therapist, Tony’s hired her.

She’s coming to the tower at 4.

Natasha spends the whole morning in the gym, ribs be damned, bruising and cuts make the session more painful but almost cathartic to work on. She can only hide in here so long.

She goes to her room and tries to read.

Heads to the kitchen. Sees Steve talking with Clint. Leaves.

Heads back to the gym. Maybe a run will help.

Clint and Steve find her in the Gym, panting her way through her third mile. Clint has the concerned look on his face, one of ‘what happened’ and ‘how can I help?’. She gets off the treadmill, pushes past both of them and leaves. Goes back to her room and showers.

Restlessly, she tries to read again. Stuffs around on her phone, looks at the time. Tony did say four right?

She heads down to check with him, the only one she can stand being around, the only one who’s not hovering, walking on eggshells and being a general pain in the ass.

She opts for a different tact when she gets there.

“How does this work?”

Tony looks up, surprised.

“What do you mean?” Natasha takes a deep breath. She hates this so much.

“I mean how does this work? I need…” she takes a pause and thinks what she’s actually asking; “a therapist and you just happen to get one that Clint knows and trusts, that will come to the tower? What did you do?”

Tony side eyes her, “I made some calls, paid some salaries. It’ll be fine.” He smiles, Natasha stops listening, waits til he finishes talking, rolls her eyes and stalks out. Stays just outside the room remembers why she went to Tony in the first place, walks back in again and waits til he turns around.

“God you’re like a ninja.”

“You just don’t pay attention.” She snaps.

“My hyper vigilance works differently to yours.” He retorts.

She pauses.

“When does she get here?”

“I don’t know, Nat, soon? I said 4, so I assume she’ll be here at 4.” She glances at the clock 3.50. Feels her breathing quicken, chest heavy. Nerves are now at an all time high. Leaving quickly she heads for the only space with air, the roof.

Clint’s already up there, she turns to leave but he spots her, “Nat, wait.” He calls.

She’s having difficulty getting her breath under control, feels more of a heaving, she needs to sit, buckles first.

Clint’s running over and she holds up a hand. A warning, don’t talk; don’t touch.

She gets back to her feet. Looks at him in the eyes, the fucking eyes of worry. Makes a decision then and there.

“I’m not going.” She says.

“Tasha..”

“No. You don’t get to decide this for me. I went with it, saw some merit in it; but you know as well as I do; this is not how we work on things. This is not how we work through things. Send me on another mission, get back on the horse, who cares? So I have another trigger - who on this team doesn’t? Bruce is triggered by being fucking angry, and he doesn’t have to go? Why should I?”

He lets her finish her tirade.

“You promised.” He says in Russian for emphasis.

“I’m not going.” She replies in kind.

Staring at each other they’re interrupted by Tony swaggering towards them.

“Nat?” He calls out.

“She’s here.” Clint says.

Natasha is pissed. Traitor.

“I’m not going.” She informs Tony.

“Nat,” Clint tries.

Tony doesn’t even pause before heading into a lecture, it makes Natasha think that he’s been thinking about it all day.

“Natasha, the Doctor is waiting, you agreed. Give it ten minutes - five even, if you don’t like what she’s got to say you can leave.”

Clint’s nodding.

Natasha scowls. Pissed that this all feels so targeted.

“Come on. If you don’t go, you have to hang out with me and Clint. And you know the whole time, we’re all going to be thinking that you should have just ripped the bandaid off and gone. Plus, if not today; then I’ll ask her to come back tomorrow; or the next day; or the one after. You get me? We aren’t letting this go. You need someone, that’s not; well, us.”

Well fuck.

She doesn’t want to be around them. She doesn’t want to be around anybody now. She feels like she’s them down already and feels betrayed. They’re supposed to have her back.

And then.

What if it doesn’t work, and she’s beyond saving? What if she lets them down?

She watches as Clint walks towards the door, holds it open.

“Come on.” He says, “put on an alarm and suck it up.”

She shoots Clint a look that she hopes conveys, fuck you and the high horse you rolled in on, and rolls her eyes. Follows Clint through the door. Tony is behind them. She counts her steps trying to alleviate panic.

They all but frog-march her to the office. Stand next to her.

All the feelings in the world are telling her to run. Leave. Never come back. Screw them; she doesn’t need them.

But.

She promised.

Taking the step inside she’s met with the kindly looking therapist that Clint told her about.

“Hello,” the woman says.

“Hello,” says Natasha.

The woman introduces herself, explains a bit on how she works. Natasha meets her with silence.

She is standing in front of the door, shakes her head when the therapist offers her a seat.

“So, do you have any questions?”

Can I leave? She thinks.

“What happens now.. Today?” She clarifies.

“Usually I’d ask why you’re here but your bandages and bruises tell me stories I feel you’re not ready to tell yet. So maybe we’ll start with strategies.” She pauses. Thinks.

“What do you know of grounding?”

“Some.” They’ve used it before, techniques that help pull you from flashbacks. Works but often hit and miss.

“Grounding helps us when we are experiencing big emotions, when reality doesn’t feel real or you just can’t get that breath under control. It helps us refocus on what’s happening in the present moment. You can use grounding techniques to help create space from distressing feelings in nearly any situation.” She pauses. “We’re going to be more targeted in our use of these. I get the feeling that you’re a woman of few words. How do you feel about just answering me with single words?”

Natasha feels positive about it.

Nods.

The therapist continues. “Ok, great. If you were to use a technique would it be mental, physical or soothing? Before you answer, a mental technique might be doubling numbers or thinking in categories, a physical technique might be putting your hands in water or a smell or touching something nearby; lastly the soothing techniques are those like teaching yourself to use words of affirmation or listing your favourite things or planning an activity.”

Natasha thinks.

Definitely not the last one. Likes the idea of mental games but physical is the one she lands on. Tactile prompt is what she’s always used, it’s harder to fake and doesn’t rely on her brain to function, easier for those around her to help her tune into. Doesn’t say this out loud. Replies.

“Physical.”

The therapist smiles. “Ok, great. So I’m going to suggest some ideas; maybe tell me one that you think might work for you, or that you’d feel comfortable letting someone know what to do when a flashback comes or your body or brain doesn’t feel like your own. Is this making sense?”

Natasha nods again.

“Ok, so hands in water noticing the change in temperature and the flow, or touching or picking up something around you, using your breath - breathing deeply, holding a piece of ice, a scent - like perfume or something that’s familiar, maybe moving your body, or listening to what’s going on around you, feeling your body, and then there’s the 5/4/3/2/1 method of 5 things you see, 4 things you touch and so on.”

She pauses. Waits. Expects a response.

Natasha looks at her feet, realises she’s still standing. Wants to sit. Pulls the chair out so the back is against the wall and curls inside.

“Hearing and touch.” She says. “harder to fake.” She elaborates.

The therapist nods.

“Ok, good. Good to know. Hearing is easy but sometimes needs another to tune us into it. Is there someone that can help you with that? That you’d feel comfortable with disclosing this?”

Natasha nods. Thinks of Clint. Knows instinctively that all she’s learnt from him, he’s learnt from this woman.

“Ok, if they’re not around then I want you try and acknowledge when you’re on the cusp of panic - put on music you know, like, know the words or tune to. Can you think of anything that would fit this?”

Natasha nods again.

“Ok; touch. Do you have any issue with people touching you, when you’re in panicked states?” Feels personal. But not wrong. Natasha looks up, sharply. Makes eye contact.

“Then this is going to be a bit different, prompt your body to tune into whatever it’s touching, sitting on, holding; take note of the temperature , the colour - anything you can think of. Does that make sense?”

“Yes.” Natasha says.

“Ok. So here, if you’re ever feeling or looking unsafe here I’m going to prompt you. Like practice, right? I might say something like the air conditioning is on or that I am talking to you. What I will also tell you is that sometimes you need to let the thoughts come.”

Pauses. Continues.

“Have you ever stopped trying to think about something and the more you try to stop it, the more the thought becomes repetitive til you can’t stop thinking about it? I’m going to remind you to let the thoughts come; but let them go too. Let it flow through you. Lastly I might tell you you’re safe. But as safety is a concept of the mind I might not always tell you that. What I’ll say now is that your words, your thoughts are safe here in the room, with me. So if you ever feel like talking through something that’s happened or going to happen or anything from the past, this is somewhere where you can do that. I’ll let you know that Mr. Stark has placed me on retainer so you call I come, easy right?”

Natasha rolls her eyes and the therapist gives her an easy smile.

“So, here’s where I tell you let’s give this a try. If it works it works, if it doesn’t that’s ok too, we just try something different. Just remember when you’re working through it, and things are ok keep working. If you feel yourself struggle - take a break. If you’re having a tough time; frustrated or overwhelmed with yourself, remove yourself from the situation. Our goal is to protect yourself and stay safe,” she smiles.

Natasha gets up.

“Natasha, would you like us to touch base daily or every second day?

Ahh the illusion of choice. The therapist is lucky that she seems competent, Natasha knows why Clint had referred her, the intelligence in her words and being able to read her is skilful.

“Second day,” she responds. What the hell, Tony’s right, what has she got to lose?

She side steps to the door, but the therapist isn’t finished yet,

“Last thing, do you have any questions?” Huh.

She doesn’t think so.. Hand on the doorknob she shakes her head.

“Ok, thanks for coming today. It’s lovely to meet you.” Natasha turns to acknowledge the woman. Gives a small smile.  
\----


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clint/Tony's POV.   
> _______
> 
> “God you’re like a ninja.” He tries to hide his surprise with sass.
> 
> “You just don’t pay attention.”
> 
> “My hyper vigilance works differently to yours.” He retorts.
> 
> “When does she get here?” Right to the point he sees. Tries to see it for what it really is, anxiety and trepidation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Team, I love Clint and Nat and Tony dynamics. If you couldn't tell already. Also 50 points if you catch the buffy quote.

“How does this work?”

Tony looks up, surprised. Focuses his attention to Natasha, no context for what on earth she’s just come here for. It’s the first time he’s seen her since Clint brought her back; it’s been a couple of days but he honestly thought she’d look worse. If only he bounced back as quick.

“What do you mean?” He clarifies, a tad exasperated that this is their initial conversation.

“I mean how does this work? I need…” she pauses, gulps, looks resolutely, “a therapist and you just happen to get one that Clint knows and trusts, that will come to the tower? What did you do?”

Tony side eyes her, “I made some calls, paid some salaries. It’ll be fine.” He smiles, “who knows; if she’s any good maybe I’ll join you in therapy. Pepper always says I need to go.”

Natasha rolls her eyes and stalks out.

Feeling that the conversations over, Tony returns to his project. He’s trying to figure out how to add in a first aid kit into his suit. One would think that it’d be relatively easy, but logistically it’s built for stealth and ease of use - nanoparticles aren’t great at adding solid matter. Maybe in his old suit he could have added compartments in, but the tech of his new suit is just so good. He breaks down what he wants in his kit, maybe he can modify that, and build and program the nanobites to do what the old school kit would do. Maybe…

She’s in front of him again.

“God you’re like a ninja.” He tries to hide his surprise with sass.

“You just don’t pay attention.”

“My hyper vigilance works differently to yours.” He retorts.

“When does she get here?” Right to the point he sees. Tries to see it for what it really is, anxiety and trepidation.

“I don’t know, Nat, soon? I said 4, so I assume she’ll be here at 4.” Looks at her, watches for a nervous tick. Doesn’t see one but that doesn’t mean it’s not there. Adds, “I’ve told her to set up in mid level - the room where Pepper used to work out of, you remember?” Tries to get her thinking of something else.

He looks at the clock, 3.50. Turns around so they’re not facing each other; feels it’s less confronting. “Do you want me to get Friday to let you know when she’s ready?

When she doesn’t answer, Tony assumes she’s left again. Asks Friday to let the doctor in and direct here where to set up; and to let Natasha know when everything is ready; maybe give a 2 minute warning. Just because he’s organised it, doesn’t mean he wants to deal with it.

.

He’s back working when he gets a notification that the doctors set up but Natasha’s nowhere to be found. Friday comments that she thinks she’s on the roof but can’t confirm that. Tony’s torn. Let Clint deal with it or give a clumsy speech of why it’s good to talk through things and be a complete hypocrite?

He asks Friday where Clint is. No read there either. Friday thinks maybe the roof too. Tony sits. Wonders if he needs to intervene, help. Clint’s had it rough, looked worn when he returned, had tried to keep tabs on her at pretty much all times. Maybe he should help.

Tony puts down his tools, takes of his gloves and heads for the roof. Asks Friday to make the doctor comfortable and check if she needs anything whilst she waits.

He reaches the roof and sees the couple (he assumes anyway, who knows with these two?). They both looks stressed. Clint’s hand is touching in between his eyebrows and Natasha’s hands are in tight fists. They’re talking tersely - not yelling, but short sentences packed with meaning that potentially only they know. They’re not even speaking English.

“Nat?” He calls out

“she’s here.” Clint says.

Natasha looks caught.

“I’m not going.”

“Nat,” Clint tries.

Tony doesn’t feel particularly tactful.

Tact is just not saying true stuff. He’ll pass on that.

“Natasha, the Doctor is waiting, you agreed. Give it ten minutes - five even, if you don’t like what she’s got to say you can leave.” Clint’s nodding.

Natashas scowling.

“Come on. If you don’t go, you have to hang out with me and Clint. And you know the whole time, we’re all going to be thinking that you should have just ripped the bandaid off and gone. Plus, if not today; then I’ll ask her to come back tomorrow; or the next day; or the one after. You get me? We aren’t letting this go. You need someone, that’s not; well, us.”

They wait her out.

It’s 4.10, Tony hopes that the doc has nowhere to be.

Clint walks towards the door, holds it open for the others.

“Come on. Put on an alarm and suck it up.”

If looks could kill, Tony’s sure that Clint would be eviscerated.

Natasha rolls her eyes and follows Clint through the door. Tony follows behind them.

They all but frog-march her to the office. Stand with her in a row in front of the door.

Tony knocks, Clint opens the door, and they wait, again, for Natasha’s courage to push her through.

.

Clint and Tony stand guard outside. Tony makes a bet that She’ll be in there for five minutes. Clint shakes his head. Doesn’t take the bait.

They wait.

Five minutes.

Ten minutes.

Clint shoots Tony a look.

Thirty minutes.

Sixty minutes.

It’s ten to six when Natasha emerges. She looks.. Tony doesn’t know if there’s a word for how she looks. But she does look pleased to see them waiting.

“I’m coming back the day after tomorrow.” She announces.

Shrugs.

Struts off.

Tony’s fairly proud of her.

Clint looks hopeful.

Tony walks off, asking Friday to keep the doctor on call and on the books for the foreseeable future.


End file.
